When You See Me (Detective D.D. Warren #11)(30)

Flora nodded slowly. Her flat affect was gone. Now she appeared . . . younger, nervous. Scared that she would discover a dish that reminded her of Jacob? Or more terrified she wouldn’t, and the man, what he did to her, what he might have done to others, would forever remain a mystery to her?

Coming to Georgia had been a brave move on Flora’s part. D.D. respected it. She even felt for the woman. But she kept her expression firm and her expectations clear. Coddling had never worked when it came to Flora. An impossible challenge, on the other hand . . .

“All right,” Flora said abruptly. “We’ll do it. Dine our way through town. How hard can it be?”

Keith squeezed her shoulder, which was answer enough.

Behind them, the door opened, the sheriff appearing in his fresh shirt.

“Touch base end of day,” D.D. instructed. She made a shooing gesture with her hands. Flora and Keith belatedly turned and headed down the hall.

“Where are they off to?” the sheriff asked.

“Two crazy kids in love? Who knows?”





CHAPTER 13





KIMBERLY





KIMBERLY MET UP WITH HER ERT team shortly after five A.M. They gathered in the motel’s lobby before coffee had been brewed and cellophane-wrapped pastries tossed into the basket. They were a good team, experienced and detail oriented. Kimberly trusted each member with her life, and had done so the last time they’d retrieved bodies from a mountain in Georgia.

Supervisory Special Agent and Senior Team Leader Rachel Childs was their designated circus master. The five-foot-nothing redhead had grown up in Chicago and had a set to her jaw that discouraged dissent. By contrast, Harold Foster, a six-foot-one beanpole who towered above her, was their designated outdoorsman. He’d hiked the entire length of the Appalachian Trail before heading off to college and was eager to do it again. He was also well versed in flora, fauna, predatory wildlife, and poisonous snakes. Kimberly had a tendency to hike close to Harold—when she could keep up with him.

Harold and Rachel had brought two more agents with them.

Franklin Kent, whom Kimberly had never met but had a voice that reminded her of the bayou, was as well-equipped as Harold, so another with mountain experience.

Finally, Rachel introduced Maggie Sharp, who appeared to be lugging their survey tool for crime scene mapping. A walking IT department.

They all exchanged pleasantries. Kimberly explained the two graves and the role of Dr. Jackson, the forensic anthropologist who would be in charge of the exhumation. The ERT, meanwhile, would assist with establishing the grid, working the outer perimeter, and, yes, retrieving any additional scattered bones.

They split into two vehicles to drive to the trailhead. Kimberly and Harold went ahead to set up mobile command at the base of the hiking trail and meet up with Dr. Jackson. Which put team leader Rachel in charge of coffee and snacks—arguably the most important task.

As Kimberly and Harold reached their destination, Dr. Jackson pulled up in a white ME’s van, and Kimberly made the introductions. She’d only worked with the forensic anthropologist a couple of times, but Kimberly already appreciated her no-nonsense approach. This morning, the woman wore loose-fitting clothes and hiking boots. Kimberly noticed a pile of coveralls in the back of the van, which were quickly loaded into a pack. Then there were buckets, trowels, sifters, tarps.

Kimberly was beginning to wonder if they should consider a horse or a donkey to assist with transport when the rest of her team appeared and wordlessly started absorbing supplies into their own packs while attaching various buckets to various hooks all over their bodies.

Then they were off. Harold took the lead, Rachel not far behind. Kimberly had given both coordinates, so she wasn’t worried.

She took an easier pace, falling beside Dr. Jackson. The older woman was doing great, given she probably spent most of her life in a lab. But the mile-long trail was steep and it didn’t hurt to take a couple of breaks.

“When I told you to find me more bones,” Dr. Jackson grumbled, “I didn’t mean this.”

“Did you look at the pictures I sent you?”

“Of course.”

“We stopped digging once we saw the top of the skulls. I didn’t want to do more harm than good.”

“Finally, some words of common sense from a fed.”

“It does happen,” Kimberly assured her.

“You’re fishing. You want me to tell you things you know I can’t yet tell you.”

“I want to know the age of the grave site. Sooner versus later. Have we stumbled across something old, or something ongoing?”

“The skeletal condition is one vote for old. But I’ll have to get the remains back to my lab to tell you more.”

Kimberly nodded, accepting the verdict as they continued their ascent.

The first burial site had already been worked thoroughly a month ago. Given the need to recover more bones, however, Rachel assigned Harold and Franklin to continue examining the area in case they’d missed something. Harold was famous for covering miles of mountainside in a single step. Kimberly didn’t know what Franklin was famous for yet. The agent seemed to be focused, dedicated, and completely self-contained. A puppy and a panther. It would be an interesting day for both of them.

She led the rest of the team up to the site of the new mass grave. Two deputies had been assigned overnight watch. They rose gratefully to their feet as Kimberly and her crew emerged from the dense underbrush.